Claustrophobia
by Theseus
Summary: Written for dragonage kink@Livejournal but couldn't resist posting here as well. M!Mahariel gets a case of claustrophobia in the Deep Roads and Zevran has just the thing to take his mind off it. m/m, bit of smut, and an embarrassed Alistair cameo. :D


Since deciding Orzammar would be their next stop, Ka'el had privately dreaded it. Granted, all he'd heard beforehand were stories and he knew no one who had ventured personally to the great stone city, but what he'd heard he didn't like. Within the city itself, at least the ceilings had been high and he'd still felt there was air to breath. Those thoughts all fled once they'd set out into the Deep Roads.

The further they went, the closer the walls felt. Ortan Thaig smelled of neglect, stale air, and spilled blood. The constant sound of scuttling crawlers was no comfort, and if he'd not known echoes from truth he'd have never taken his hands off his bow. There was hardly even room for that! A singing, swift arrow belonged there no more than he did, and the ever-shrinking passages forced him to be nearly on top of a target before he had a clear shot. It only added to his frustrations.

It was after dispatching yet another group of clustered crawlers and various other long-limbed hungry spiders that he felt he might not be able to go further. He swung his bow over his shoulder, letting it settle against his back, and grabbed onto (yet another) stone to steady himself. No fresh air anywhere, and these tunnels had never known the touch of the sun. It was suffocating him, and the longer he stood there the more crushing the feeling became.

Alistair and Oghren had gone forward to see if the passages were clear and Ka'el assumed Zevran was still checking the quite-dead spiders for any loot worth salvaging. Thinking himself alone, he leaned more fully against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself anywhere but in those damned endless tunnels. A forest path, yes, surrounded by swaying trees that dipped their branches toward him. Not unforgiving stone. Room to run..to move and draw his bow, stretch his legs...

It might have worked if the whole thing hadn't been ruined by someone laying a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away, instinctively, and heard a familiar chuckle behind him. "The tunnels are not treating you so well, are they, dear Warden?" There was a trace of real sympathy in the Antivan's eyes, masked as always by amusement.

Ka'el frowned, slender fingers reaching up to push a stray strand of hair out of his face. "I just want to find Branka and get this over with. I've spent enough time with the dwarves for my liking." Zevran, of course, had guessed at the real reason behind his fellow elf's discontent. "I suppose all this stone and ceiling," he reached out to pat one of the rocks beside them, "would feel like a cage to any proud Dalish such as yourself. Is it not so?" The unusual paleness of Ka'el's face was all the answer he needed.

"In Antiva, we have a saying...When you cannot fight your fears, you must forget them. Lucky for you, I have the perfect way to do that.." Already his fingers were curling around the waist of the other's pants, tugging him closer. "Zev, now isn't the time..." The blond silenced him with a kiss so insistent Ka'el made up his mind that breathing was overrated, anyway. "Alistair and Og-" he tried again, but just as he did Zevran's handd slipped between his legs to grasp him.

"You were saying?" Zevran smirked, content to remain just as he was. Ka'el let out the breath he'd been holding in a hiss, lifting his hips toward Zevran's oh-so-warm fingers. "Just...just make it quick," the archer finally said, which earned him another laugh. "Now that is something I do not hear often."

The Antivan was on his knees in a moment, and Ka'el felt his pants tugged down until they pooled around his boots. He'd never been so glad not to wear heavy armor. Zevran's lips wrapped around him with a skill the other elf had still not grown used to. The heat of his mouth, the way Zevran stroked and squeezed the backs of his thighs, was nearly enough to make his knees give way. Ka'el leaned more fully agianst the stone, feeling it scrape against now-exposed skin. Zevran had his full length in his throat by then and was busy moving his head in a wickedly slow rhythm, clearly enjoying every inch of him. It was all he could do not to cry out, both out of fear of rousing nearby darkspawn (and who knew what else) or unwittingly summoning Alistair and Oghren back at such an inopportune moment.

Zevran, sensing the Warden's urgency, quickened his pace. His tongue danced around the tip of the other's cock each time he pulled back and slowly he began to slide a finger into his entrance. Ka'el tensed as he did, already feeling that familiar, almost desperate pressure growing in him. Zevran's lips, his mouth, worked in the same rhythm as his nimble finger. The addition of a second was all it took to push the Warden over the edge. "Zevran I..I'm.." but the rest was lost in a moan. His release took him, sending a shudder down the length of his body, and Zevran soon tasted that rush of warmth in his mouth. As he began to pull away his tongue darted out to lick any remains of that sweet little elf's passions, illiciting another little series of moans from him.

Just as the assassin stood, a satisfied grin on his lips, to ask if the Warden felt any better, they were interrupted. "Maker's breath! Can't that wait?" Alistair stood red-faced, sword drawn, staring at them. "We've got company!" The clash of Oghren's weapon with what had to be darkspawn armor probably meant that last moan had been a little too loud.

As they dashed off to join the fray, after a very hurried re-fastening of his pants, Ka'el couldn't help but notice that the air did seem a little more fresh already...


End file.
